


Dreamwalk

by SprucePines



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/M, Incest, Sibling Incest, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 07:53:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6186586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SprucePines/pseuds/SprucePines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mabel attempts to dreamwalk, to leave her dreamscape and visit the dreams of others. She ends up getting more than she bargained for. Incomplete and will remain so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Lying in her bed, Mabel took several deep breaths, emptying her mind of extraneous thought. This had been her ritual for weeks now. She thought she was finally ready to give it a try.

Ever since her and Dipper’s adventure into their Grunkle Stan’s dreamscape, she found herself growing more aware of her own dreams while sleeping. A brief search on the internet told her that she was lucid dreaming, and with that information came an idea.

If she was now conscious in her own dreamscape, perhaps she could enter someone else’s, without using the journal.

Unsure if she’d even be able to, she decided to use a non-human for her first experiment. And she knew just the critter to try: Waddles. Keeping her pet pig and his name firmly in the forefront of her thoughts, she closed her eyes and slipped into a deep sleep.

In what seemed like just moments later, she found herself standing outside the Mystery Shack, only it seemed slightly faded and somewhat off. Some elements of it, like the upper floors, were greatly exaggerated while others, like the porch, were diminished.

From behind her, Mabel heard a grunting sound. It almost sounded like it was saying her name. She whirled around to see Waddles, running towards a dream version of herself. Her doppelganger’s nose was more porcine, and she had hooves instead of hands, but it was a very reasonable dream facsimile otherwise.

“Waddles!” she cried. He turned with a start, his tiny black eyes growing wide at seeing the real Mabel in his dreams. In an instant he bolted for Mabel, leaping into her open arms.

“This is great,” she said. “Now I can see you even when Dipper and I are at home in California.”

She and Waddles spent the next several minutes playing outside the dream Shack. Eventually, though, she called to her pet. “Okay, boy,” she said. “Now that I know I can enter your dreams, I’m going to see if I can enter a person’s dreams, too.” She squeezed Waddles in a bear hug, promising to see him again very soon before releasing him and closing her eyes, keeping her new target in mind.

When she reopened her eyes, she was standing in her parents’ living room in Piedmont. “Did it work, or did I just go back into my own dreams?” she asked. “Only one way to find out, I guess.” She climbed the stairs and approached Dipper’s bedroom door. She paused momentarily before turning the knob and pushing it open. As she did, her nose was assailed by a mélange of perfumes.

The scene stretched out before her was like something out of the Arabian Nights. Ornate pillows covered the floor, which extended far beyond the room’s normal confines. Mabel had the sense that she had stepped into one of her twin’s favorite science fiction shows. Fine silks hung from above. After overcoming her initial disorientation, she stepped into the room. As soon as she did, she heard the sound of many voices laughing. Or rather, the same voice laughing several times over itself. And as odd as that was for her to process, odder still was the realization that the laugh was familiar to her.

She continued walking. When she came upon the center of the space, she came to a complete halt, both in astral body and of mind. Resting atop the pillows stood a red, heart-shaped bed. On the bed laid her brother, Dipper, clad in little more than his shorts. Surrounding him on all sides were more than half a dozen girls, each in various states of undress. But each girl was, in fact the same girl.

They were all her. Dipper was surrounded by a harem of Mabels.

The Mabel nearest his head held a bunch of grapes just above his mouth, which he would occasionally snag with his teeth and pull a few of the fruits free. Another Mabel was ready to wipe the spit and juices away from his lips with a finger, which Dipper would kiss as it passed over them. Yet others on either flank were caressing his chest and stomach, their hands gliding close to the danger zone.

Mabel had absolutely no idea how to deal with what she was seeing. Just what in the wide, wide world of sports was going on with her twin brother?

“Mabel?”

It took her a few seconds to realize that the voice was directed at her and not one of her duplicates. She looked at Dipper’s face to see him looking right at her. A look of confusion mixed with fear was on his face.

Mabel wished she’d never gotten it in her head to go dream walking. She spun on her heel and marched back the way she came, willing herself to jump back to her own head. From behind, she heard Dipper’s voice calling, “Mabel? Mabel!” As she walked, his voice died away as the world melted around her, reforming itself as her own dreamscape. The prospect of dreaming, though, had lost all its luster and she forced herself awake. She spent the remainder of the night lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, alternately trying to rationalize Dipper’s dream and wishing to purge it from her memory.


	2. The Dreamening

Lying in her bed, Mabel took several deep breaths, once again trying to expel her thoughts from her mind. She wasn’t looking to go dreamwalking this night, though. Tonight, she was simply trying to forget what she had witnessed the night before: her twin brother, Dipper, laying amongst a group of girls, all of them the spitting image of her.

She had been trying to forget it from the instant she had awoken, with little success. Each time she would see or even think of Dipper, the scene replayed itself for her. The bunch of grapes above his head, as if he were a Caesar; him kissing the finger that wiped the juices away; the hands venturing where they ought not go.

It didn’t help matters at all that Dipper wouldn’t speak with her about anything, much less what she saw, all day. She might have thought she had actually not gone into his dreams at all, that she had dreamed the whole thing herself, except for the fact that he had largely avoided her. It was as if every time she entered a room he happened to be in, he suddenly remembered he had left the iron plugged in in another room and dashed out. That was enough to raise her suspicions.

Confirmation came at around lunch time. She had been making a PB&J sandwich when Dipper had entered the kitchen. He had hesitated a moment, but a loud grumble from his stomach convinced him to stick around long enough to make his own lunch. The twins stood at the counter in silence for a long moment before Mabel asked, “So…how’d you sleep last night?” Dipper’s knife clattered to the floor and he stared at her, eyes wide. Gulping, he quickly picked up the knife and dropped it into the sink and took his unfinished sandwich out as fast as he could.

That settled it for her.

At one point near the end of the day he had worked up enough courage to approach her. However, he had simply stood there in the hallway, his mouth opening and closing like a fish for several seconds before he simply turned into his room and closed the door.

She rolled to one side and found herself staring at the wall separating their rooms. Just on the other side, he lay in his bed, likely dreaming of his little gaggle of girls, his mob of Mabels, giving him…whatever the heck he was wanting from them. She rolled the other way, and even in the dark she could see her makeshift collage of photos from their trip to Gravity Falls. Dipper was featured in nearly every one of them.

She sighed, realizing that simply laying there would solve nothing. _The only way this is going to get settled is if we talk,_ she reasoned. _So let’s talk._

Stilling herself, she allowed herself to fall asleep. When she opened her eyes, she found herself standing amidst a patch of trees. “The woods? Not the house?” Glancing around, her surroundings seemed familiar, though she couldn’t quite place them. She took a few steps in one direction, following a narrow footpath. She rounded a corner to find a tree with a spiral staircase winding underground around it. “Great Uncle Ford’s bunker? Why would Dip be dreaming of this place?”

A look to one side gave her the answer. Close to a nearby clearing lay a felled tree, upon which sat her twin brother. His back was to her, though she could see his chin resting in his hands. Whether he was deep in thought or in a funk, she wasn’t certain. She went to take a step, but held back a moment.

“Come on, Mabel,” she whispered, “this is why you came back here.” Slowly, she drew near and took a seat on the log. Dipper jumped, his head jerking up to look at her. He looked like he’d been caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

“Mabel?” he asked. “Are you really Mabel?”

“Well, you wouldn’t speak to me all day today, so this seemed the only option available to me.”

“H-how’d you learn to do this?”

“Internet. Guessing you figured out lucid dreaming same as me. After we went into Grunkle Stan’s mind?”

Dipper nodded.

“So that wasn’t just some completely random dream I walked in on last night.”

Dipper cringed, his arms curling his knees into his chest. Around them, the world began to undulate. In between the trees, multi-colored silks began to fade into being. The ground under Mabel’s feel grew softer. She reached over to her brother and took him by the shoulder. “Dipper, you need to calm down. I’m not here to yell at you.”

Slowly, the wavering subsided and the world steadied.

“You must hate me,” Dipper mumbled.

“Oh, Dipper,” she sighed. “I don’t hate you.”

“Yes, you do, and you have every right to.”

She squeezed his shoulder. “Dipper, stop it. I don’t hate you. I just…don’t understand what I saw last night.”

“What’s not to understand? You saw it clearly enough, didn’t you?”

“I know I saw you surrounded by a bunch of scantily clad Mabels,” she said. He cringed again, causing the world to shimmer once more. “But I don’t understand _why._ ”

Dipper took a deep breath and slowly turned to look at his twin. “Remember our summer in Gravity Falls?” Mabel nodded. “Sometime during that summer, I think it was around the time Gideon almost got the Shack, I began to realize how much you mean to me. I mean, you’ve always been important to me. We spent our whole lives together, after all. But I began to feel that you were more than just my best friend. Remember Mabel Land?”

She grinned a bit wistfully, remembering how too-perfect Bill’s trap was. “Yeah.”

“Remember how I refused to look behind that door you showed me?”

Mabel’s grin faltered a bit. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t want to look behind it because…I was afraid that it would be you on the other side. And if that were the case, what would you have thought of me.”

“Dipper,” she breathed. “Are you saying that…you’re in _love_ with me?”

Unable to answer, Dipper merely cast his eyes downward.

Mabel was dumbfounded. Moments from their summer in Oregon began to replay in her thoughts: Dipper sacrificing his shot at Wendy so she could have Waddles, taking a flying leap off a cliff to get her away from Gideon’s clutches, braving the Weirdmageddon to rescue her from Bill Cipher. She had always just considered them the actions of a brother looking out for his sister. Now, they felt more and more like the actions of a boy trying to help the girl he loves.

She felt a growing sensation in the pit of her stomach, but it wasn’t what she expected. A brother loving his sister is beyond taboo. She should be feeling fear, anger, revulsion, any number of things. What she was feeling, though, was none of those things. This was more akin to what she felt for Mermando.

Looking at her twin’s sad demeanor roused something else: the need to reassure him. She looked down at his hand, resting on the log. Cautiously, she extended her hand and placed it atop his, giving it a soft squeeze. He looked down at them, followed her arm up, and gazed into her eyes.

“It’s okay, Dipper. I’m not upset. Thank you for being honest with me.”

He gulped. “Are…are we okay?”

Mabel gave him a small grin and nodded. “Don’t get me wrong, this whole thing’s all kinds of cray-cray.” Dipper chuckled nervously. “And you’ve given me a lot to think about…but yeah. Yeah, we’re okay.” She stood. “I’m gonna head back to my own dreams. See you in the morning?”

Dipper smiled. “Yeah. Sweet dreams.”

She gave him a wink. “You, too, brother dear.” She focused her thoughts on finding her own body, watching the woods dissolve, replaced with the familiar surroundings of her bedroom.

She sat down on her bed. _So my twin bro-bro is in love with me. Well, I am IR-REE-SIS-TA-BEL, so I don’t know that I can really blame him. I wonder…what would it be like, actually being with your sibling? Going on dates, hugging…kissing, or even—_ She stopped short, unsure about finishing that thought. _Best not to think about that, Mabelton. Stuff like that isn’t allowed in the real world._

_But…we’re not in the real world right now, are we?_

She licked her lips, her heart rate picking up. _It’s just in my dreams, so there’s really no harm, right? Just like Dip was doing. It’s not like he was actually trying anything with me. He’s keeping it all in his dreams. So what’s the harm?_

She stretched out with her thoughts and a replica of Dipper was standing before her, dressed in his usual jeans, plain red t-shirt and flannel. He stood stock still, staring straight ahead, a little grin on his lips. She reached out and placed her hand on his chest. Even as a dream, she could still feel the steady beat of his heart. Her own heart was thumping, and growing stronger as she allowed her hand to slide down towards his waistline.

She had no idea what he actually looked like down there. They hadn’t seen each other nude since they had bathed together as babies. Still, she found herself with a newfound curiosity for her brother’s nethers.

She looked into his face. It still stared directly ahead. “It feels like I’m groping a mannequin. Can’t you act like the real Dipper?”

The moment the words left her mouth, he blinked and turned to look at her. “Mabel?” He glanced down and saw where her hand was. He yelped and grasped her wrist, pulling it away from him. “What are you doing?!”

“Maybe not _that_ much like the real Dipper.” His grip on her loosened and his expression changed from shock to something like curiosity. “Come on, Dip,” she told him. “The real you had me feeling him up in his dreams, how about you do the same for me in mine.”

He nodded and gently ran a hand over her hair, his fingers lacing through her locks. His other hand rested upon her shoulder and moved down her arm before pressing lightly against her breast. She gasped; even for a dream, this idea was proving more intense than any other fantasy she’d had before. His hands continued their journey along her body, drawing more sounds.

_Is this what it’s like for Dipper?_

As if in answer, more sets of hands laid themselves upon her, surprising her. She quickly looked to see a quartet of additional duplicate Dippers around her, all different from one another. One looked much paler than usual, with the pine tree of his hat replaced by the numeral “2,” dressed in his old red shirt, blue vest, and shorts. _Oh, that’s right. Dipper told me about his copier clones. So that makes you Tyrone._

Another was dressed in a v-neck shirt, shades perched atop his head. _He is_ still _not selling that look,_ she thought. “Dip,” she said, “lose that v-neck. It just ain’t happenin.’” He solemnly nodded his head and shrugged off his vest before peeling the offending shirt off his body. Mabel couldn’t help but arch an eyebrow as his bare chest came into view.

Yet another was sporting a tuxedo and eyepatch, his hair slicked back and a winning, toothy grin on his lips. _He actually looks really good in a tux. Dip could really stand to suit up more often. His jeans and flannel combo is getting borrrring._

The fourth was dressed like something the 90s had vomited up. Lightning bolts inexplicably decorated his hat and vest, bright purple shades in neon green frames covered his eyes. “Oh, my gosh,” she squealed. “Dippy Fresh! I haven’t thought about you in ages!”

“Flip a Dip-Dip!” he called. All the others stopped to glare at him.

“Never say that again,” tuxedo Dipper said.

“ _Ever_ ,” shirtless Dipper added.

She sensed motion to one side, and spotted yet another Dipper. This one though was dressed like a traveling preacher, with a long black overcoat over his frame and a thin tie around his neck. His pupils were stretched vertically against pale yellow eyes above a maniacal grin.

“Oh, no!” she said. “No way in Hell, Bippity Boppity Boo!” With that, Bipper promptly burst into flames, quickly consuming him.

She soon felt their hands seemingly everywhere at once: caressing a cheek, a thumb brushing her lips; gently kneading her breasts; rubbing her sides and hips; squeezing her butt. “Oh god,” she groaned. She grew unsteady on her legs. Without missing a beat, her entourage carefully guided her down, where a chaise lounge had appeared out of the ether.

Mabel closed her eyes, basking in the attention her body was being given. “Ohhh, man,” she whimpered. “How are you guys knowing just what to do?”

All four Dippers smirked. “We’re out of your thoughts, remember?” Tyrone said. “Who would know better than yourself just what feels good?”

She began to writhe in her seat, twisting herself this way and that. Their hands began to slip underneath her shirt, sending goosebumps racing across her skin. Receiving so much attention, and from a group of boys all wearing her brother’s face, was supercharging. And intoxicating. Finally, one hand snaked its way between her legs. She thought she could grow to really enjoy this. And with that realization, a thought from earlier resurrected itself. _What if Dipper and I…really did something together?_

Before she knew what was happening, she felt her body begin to convulse and shake. Everything around her began to blur and coalesce together.

A moment later, she opened her eyes and saw her ceiling fan slowly spinning above her bed, a counterbalance to her pounding heart. A quick glance around seemed to confirm for her that she was indeed awake. She shifted in her bed as she calmed back down and felt a dampness underneath the covers. She reached down and found the cause of it was herself.

She stared at her fingers, glistening in the moonlight. Only one word found its way to her lips.

“Wow.”


End file.
